All the King's Men
by Ersuela
Summary: Spoiler-fic. Takes place at the very end of the 23rd episode. Wolfwood's thoughts the day that he kneeled at the altar for the last time. Rated for language.


A.N: I don't know how to explain this. =/ It's a very short one-shot fic that takes place at the very end of episode 23. So, if you haven't seen this episode, it's… a spoiler. Don't read it. Turn back now. x.x 

Warnings: Nothing really. If you've seen episode 23, you should have an idea of what's going to happen in this. ^^ Also, it's Wolfwood's POV. Obviously. o.o

All the King's Men

Written by Firefly-chan

I don't want to die.

  
Damnit, I _refuse _to die.

It's not fair – any of it. The way this happened… the way things ended up. The way he thinks everything turns out okay in the end when it's actually the opposite. I still don't understand him. After the many days I spent with him--talking to him—I still don't understand a damned thing about who he is or what he'll ever be. He's stronger than I am, that's for damn sure. But it's so subtle, so hinted at. I don't get it.

When I look at him I want to grit my teeth in pain. He thinks he hides it well, but everything he is bleeds right through that broken mask of his. I don't understand how he can hurt so much, yet still think everyone has a fair chance—that everyone _deserves_ a fair chance. That no one should be hurt… that it's not necessary for the pain and death of others. I don't know how he can hold it inside like he does. Sometimes I wonder if he's more than what he says he is. Sometimes I wonder if he _isn't_.

It hurts so much. More than anything I've ever known. The pain - both physical and mental. I can feel it cascading through my mind and down through my fingertips. It's electric, shocking. Almost breathtaking, yet barely there at all. I just want them to know that I never meant any of it. All the lies, and all the things that I did wrong. I never meant for it to go wrong. 

I wish I could tell him that I'm sorry. That I'm sorry for everything he has to be and everything he'll never have the chance to be. That I'm sorry for everything he'll be forced to do in this near future. That I'm sorry for hurting him for the way that I did, or lying to him so unmercifully. That I'm sorry for the way he forgave me, and that I never did deserve his compassion. I'm sorry for the killing and the hatred and the anger. And damnit, I'm sorry for being such a damn coward. But most of all, I'm sorry for him. For the tears he will more than likely cry by the time this mess is over.

I wish I could've…

Could've… prevented it.

And tell her that she's so much more than she thinks she is. Tell her that even though I'm not going to be here, I'll still appreciate her. I'll still appreciate everything she did for me and all the things she helped me with. Tell her I'm sorry, too.

Will you do that for me? I know I've never actually been very fair to you, although I call myself a subject of loyalty. Although I call myself a priest with a gun in my hand and a bloodstained coat and a smirk on my face. 

And if not for me, then… please, just do it for them.

I'm never going to see how this all turns out, am I? I'm not going to see if he succeeds or if he fails. If Knives has a hold over him, or if he can overcome that. If he has the limits like any ordinary man has, or if he can surpass them without even a second thought. I won't be able to see if everything turns out fine, if he ends up crying like I think he will, or if he can hold it in and find the strength to do what may not be right, but is necessary. 

I won't… be able to see them ever again, will I?

No… no! There's only so much he can do! I won't accept it! This is not who I wanted to be—I wanted to change things! I was going to change things! I tried to, but I was too late. Why can't you understand that? Why can't you have the patience and the virtue that you're suppose to be tank full of?

I _want _to see him make it through this! I _want _to see if he has his limits! I _want _him to prove me wrong! I want him to prove everyone wrong! I want to be able to wake up tomorrow, pull out a cigarette without having to worry about death or pain, and I want to be able to look over and see her face—to see her smiling. I want to see them all smiling. For real, this time. To smile for real. Without this bloodfest in the way. I just…

I don't want… to… I don't want to leave them. Because… because…

__

It's not enough. 

… "I guess it would be presumptuous to ask for forgiveness. I can't stand it…"

But, damn you… _I am_.

Owari.


End file.
